


An adeventure for the inexperienced

by AllLamasLikeIceCreamedEels



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies), Thor: Tales of Asgard
Genre: Adventuring, Age Difference, Awesome Frigga (Marvel), Dancing, Dark Thor (Marvel), Drinking, He's just oblivious, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Bro, M/M, Minor Frigga/Odin (Marvel), Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Pining, Pre-Thor (2011), Protective Fandral, Protective Frigga (Marvel), Protective Loki (Marvel), Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, not too highlighted, sif can be a bit of a bitch, you know i'm gonna make frigga throw down
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24152308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllLamasLikeIceCreamedEels/pseuds/AllLamasLikeIceCreamedEels
Summary: Loki has many titles; Trickster, liesmith, God of mischief, Pain in the arse, greasy weasel, to name but a few of his aliases. The prince is also known for his Silvertonge. His words about to cut deeper than most of swords in Asgard. He is cold, aloof, distant and sly.At the moment Loki is fast approaching adulthood, true adulthood. This stirs excitement to those who are not a fan of he Prince as it means the boy can no longer hide behind the fact he is a child whenever he plays his mischievous schemes. Harsher punishments will be brought forward. Many would be happy to see done so.These opinions are being highlighted when strange magic Is showing up in Asgard. Everyone is quick to point the finger at the Prince. The only Problem, it's not him. Only few people believe the Prince. This causes loki to bring the matter into his own hands and solve the peculiar happenings out before people have an excuse to have his head.One of the few who happens to believe the Prince, is non other than Asgards heart Throb, Fandral the Dashing. And Boy! does he make Loki's heart Throb, though that's not the only thing of lokis that throbs. In other words, emotions and stakes are high, what could go wrong.
Relationships: Fandral/Loki (Marvel), Loki & Sif (Marvel), Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	1. Lacking in Experience.

**Author's Note:**

> My First Fanfiction!!! DUN-DUN-DEERR.
> 
> So if that didn't scare you off. Hello, hi, how are you. I don't bite. Not sure what I should write here but I guess I'll give you a quick run down.
> 
> Like I just said, this is my first fanfiction to ever be posted online. I've written many before I've just never posted them anywhere. I mainly draw to get my appreciation and love for characters across rather than writing just because it my stronger ability. With that in mind don't be surprised if you see a few mistakes in there. Trust me I did my best to get rid of them but some will inevitably miss my correcting. I apologise.
> 
> I chose this pairing, for the simple fact it is my favourite. I can't remember how I ended up liking these two but it could be do with Zachery levis and Tom Hiddleston's dance off on the red carpet. Who knows. Also the cold, dark prince dynamic with the charismatic noble born adventurer dynamic is scrummy too.
> 
> enough of my ramblings, lets get onto reading. FOR ASGARD!!!

It was clear to the people of Asgard that Fandral ‘the Dashing’ was aptly named. In fact, it was more known throughout the nine that he surpassed the high proclaiming title. He made most woman blush, even made most men blush, though the burlier men and women of Asgard would never admit it. Those who were not captivated by his ways often rolled their eyes and walked away but they could never deny the fact that Fandral was, well . . . indeed Dashing. Yes, it was clear to all, Fandral was one dashing fellow. He was good for a laugh, fight, drink and other such, um, more intimate activities.

That was All except one. The 2nd prince of Asgard. 

Loki was not a fan of the dashing swords man. In fact you could quite often catch the young princes’ eyes burning into the back of the man’s head, like he had committed the most heinous crime against him. He hated him-Nay! he loathed him. Why? If you asked him, you’d most likely see the slightest hue of pink grace Loki’s face before he would turn heel and storm off, reciting the answer he repeated many times before hand to many a person “I don’t need to explain my self, he just is a man whore! Is that not enough!”.  
For smart people like you and I however know that loathing is a clever façade; a fake illusion put up by people who are in denial about their feelings. well, at least they think it clever.

To list a few things the second Prince ‘Loathed’ about the swordsman, believe me it’s a large list, he hated how the man’s strawberry blond locks hung lower over one side of his face, bouncing with every movement. He loathed how the warriors face was dotted with many caramel and chocolate chipped freckles due to hours spent out in the golden sun of Asgard. He hated how when that same sun hit his eyes exactly right, they would plunge into the warmest, sweetest of honeys. He most definitely hated how the man’s broad shoulders tapered into a perfectly shaped arse that happened to be wrapped in some of the tightest pants on Asgard. Most of all he hated his voice, he hated how that voice entranced him. When he sang in the taverns at night, retelling the tales of days adventures, wooing the tavern wenches in the process, Loki felt helpless.

All the infatuation towards the Dashing warrior deserves an explanation. The explanation is a simple, understandable and one many could resonate with. Loki was reaching Manhood, true man hood. Hormones and emotions were overflowing. When experiencing these emotions, you end up finding out what you are into, the types of people you are into and what turn ones you have. For Loki, Fandral hit many of the prince’s criteria of what the prince found attracted. Ironically, it was all the attributes that Loki claimed to find annoying about the man. To tell a small secret, Loki had always been attracted to the man even when they were little, but we won’t go into that just yet.  
Loki had never been one for understanding and handling his emotions well. He would rather stuff them in box and throw them into the deepest darkest hole of Muspelheim, cover the hole in uru metal then ignore them for the rest of his life. Of course, Boxes have a habit of overflowing and breaking if packed too tightly. Loki’s box was getting quite full. If his own emotions could speak to him not even the ancient Asgardian skill of All speak could help him translate them. Which is where the previously mentioned Swords man does not help in Loki mission to be ignorant to his emotions. Fandral flared these emotions intensely and Loki did not want to deal with these feelings. He simply tried his best to push them into his cramped box and hope he could carry on with his uncaring demeanour.

Despite the lack of attention, he gave his own emotions, he was amazing at understanding others. Scary even. Loki was a master of words and could read people as if they were one of the many books he kept on his shelves. Being the God of Mischief, he rarely used this skill for good, rather he used it to create chaos or get back at those who irritated him. Which leads on to the next problem Loki was facing with coming into adulthood.

700 was the year of adulthood for Asgardians. Loki was 10 decades away, not that long. His father was of course proud as he would now have another fully grown son to brag about to the other leaders of the realm even if that son dabbled in feminine magic. His mother would often weep, complaining to him about ‘how her baby boy is growing up to quick for his own good’ as if he could do anything to control this. Thor, his Brother was of course excited as it meant more responsibility would be placed on them. It also means he could bring his Brother on bigger and longer quests. Loki himself was not that Bothered about getting older but he was concerned about how he would begin to be treated by others. He was afraid of the repercussions he could get from being an adult. Growing up to many could be good. For a young Godling, who’s title happened to be that of Mischief however certain problems could be easily foreseen. Harsher punishments for said Mischievous actions were mostly likely set to creep into Loki’s future if he was not careful, even for a man who holds the title of Prince. It was no secret that many a person of Asgard did not like the 2nd Prince, him being an adult meant he could be dealt what many thought he deserved without the protections of being a child getting in the way.

Because of these factors, Loki enjoyed being 690, it was a good age, not too old not too young. Loki had a large amount of responsibilities and could partake in few more Adult activities. He did not have to be shepherded everywhere like he did 100 years ago, he did not face to harsh a punishment when he got caught, all in all it was a good age to be. Getting back to the matter of adult activities however, Loki was rather disappointed in his exploration into that arena. Most people his aged bragged about the nights they had spent with others and how good they were. Loki was not fooled, he could easily tell when they were exaggerating and lying, which happened to be much of the time. That did not stop Loki from thinking about his lack of experience. Hel, he lacked in any kind of social activities not just the intimate ones. He had none of his own friends, there were his brother’s, Thor’s friends. Loki just tagged along, and they tolerated him. 

Now that is not to say Loki had not taken part in such adult activities, he was allowed but Loki had trouble finding anyone to be able to do the activity with. It was hard to be noticed when you were the weedy little Brother of Asgards Golden Boy, not many people noticed you standing in that large shadow. There were a few times however he had managed to get himself some time alone with another. All of which were not great. They either involved the other realising they do not have a chance with his Brother so they settle for Loki rather begrudgingly, his brother paying someone at a brothel or the other being incredibly drunk. All in all, not the best track record and non-provided the best environment to hone and improve his skills.

His first experience involved the latter of his sad reasons. A drunk princess forms some realm loki could not quite remember. She had come up to him during a party and had initiated a conversation with all the confidence and swagger a drunken woman in heels could muster, which turned out could be quite a lot. It had started with topics such as magic, alchemy and a book in which she was very adamant in Loki taking. Which then divulged into the book becoming a Thankyou gift if he would accompany the girl to bed. Loki happily obliged, he wanted the book, the girl had striking feature if not a bit intimidating in stature. She was an elven species, so she naturally stood a foot and half taller than him. When they made it to his quarters, Loki came to the very quick realisation that he had no idea what he was doing. He had never seen a real quim a day in his life, never mind one that was attached to a girl who by her knowledge was about to lay with someone who had years of experienced, he may have lied to the girl a bit. Hey! he was a prince of Asgard, he could brag, though he regretted it in that moment. Luckily, it was over quickly, or rather embarrassingly quickly in Loki case. They both fell asleep. The princess quite loudly snoring and splayed out on the right side, while Loki had curled himself into a ball of self-loathing as close to the edge of the left side as possible, trying not to keel over and die from the shame. 

In the morning, the Princess was a little confused to say the least, her memory of the night before had drifted away along with her drunken state. Loki did his best to explain what had transpired. When he had done Shakely retelling the tale the girl burst into a fit of laughter. She then composed herself but not until 5 long minutes of laughter later. She gave a quick peck on the princes’ cheek, retrieved her book from her magic pouch and assured him “I’m sure you did a did a fabulous job”. With snap of her fingers her clothes appeared on her and with another snap she was gone, presumably to find her parents to leave then later gossip about the whole affair to her friends. The book on the other hand, was completely worth it. He spent plenty a pleasurable night hunched over that book, inhaling the information within it. Receiving far more joy than that night.

The embarrassing incident, mixed with the short time he had left as a late Teenager, inspired Loki to drop some focus on his studies and in Thor’s words ‘ Not being a boring book worm and start enjoying reality a little more”. Of course, he would still read and study he would just take the amount down to a regular amount of time rather than the previous excessive amount. Yes, Loki was going to be more sociable, He would force himself to stay longer at the training grounds, even after training is over. Loki would Try and make more conversation at the markets and even stay and accompany Thor and his group of Friends to the Tavern After Training.

The only problem in this plan. Fandral happened to be Thor closest Friend. This meant if Loki were to show his face more, that blonde idiot would be right there to greet him every day. Loki could do this he was not one to back down from challenge. If it meant him having to upgrade is cramped box emotions to a bigger one than so be it.


	2. Drink your mead and take the converstaion with a handfull of salt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group are accompanied by another bunch of people, who Thor had spoke to earlier in the day. Most of them seem like enjoyable people up for a laugh. One of them however seems to be, excuse my French, a Knob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm already changing the layout of my story. Honestly I'm not surprised.  
> I had a lot of fun setting the mood and tone for this chapter. What can I say I'm a sucker for setting fantasy settings.  
> I apologise for any mistake feel free to point them out, I won't take it to heart. 
> 
> There are a few words that people may not be accustomed to so I wrote them out.
> 
> Lyre - Its an instrument that kinda looks like a fusion between a harp and lute. basically mini harp
> 
> Stein- A large drinking glass that hold 2 pints worth of beverage. (10/10 would recommend buying one even if you just put apple juice in it.)
> 
> Skald- They are like a Viking bard. it is also a name of a really cool band. 
> 
> Azure- A pretentious word for blue
> 
> Vermillion- a pretentious word for red
> 
> Ergi- A name you would use to mock someone's masculinity.
> 
> Argr- Again with the masculinity shaming, (authors advice: just be nice. HA! that rhymes, I could become a skald.) 
> 
> I wrote this while listening to tavern music. I would highly recommend you doing so to. Just give it a type into YouTube.

The hall was cramped despite its grand size. The smell of booze, sweat, meat and smoke hung heavy and thick in the air. Iron chandeliers hung down on blackened chains from the support beams, igniting the room into warm of hues of Blazing Oranges, Golds and vermilions. Cluster of candles were nestled in the middle of the iron chandeliers and would softly flicker whenever a new patron walked through the doors, sweeping a chill of air in from the outside. Thin snakes of spiralling smoke from the flames drifted up painting the roof pitch black. The old walls seemed to creek and sing, with the many tales that had been passed within them. Warriors of old and new all sung of different truths and haled from different origins but they were united within the warmth of the Grand hall.

Raucous laughter and merriment filled the high roofs adding to the bustling whole-hearted mood of the hall. A stark contrast to the crisp chill air of the Asgardian night outside. The Einherjar were occupying a far corner of the hall, enjoying their time off guard duties. Grumbling about boring shifts while gambling a small part of their earnings away between one another. Cheering when someone had a particularly large and unfortunate loss. Random strums of a Lyre accompanied with soft lilting notes of pan flutes and harps could be heard in amongst the boisterous conversations as random Skalds found themselves home on tables to those who were more than happy to accommodate the entertainment, For penny that is. Random warriors arm wrestled and drank there cares away, often stumbling between tables, bumping into to others. Receiving irritated shoves, sending them barrelling in the directions of more people, who if you were lucky would just laugh and help them up. If they were not, well . . . Additional sparring would be initiated. Rough and tumble was greatly welcomed as long as it didn’t get bloody. Which would then fire the spectators into louder fits of cheers, laughter, and boos. Coins past behind backs from people who thought themselves good at predictions. Mead being sent high into the air with hearty cheers, raining down in flecks of honied gold when their victor emerged.

Tavern waiters and waitresses usually found themselves weaving in and out, even often over tables, or bodies depending on the type of night; trying to get to customers who found them selves empty of alcohol. Strangely, it was executed with all the skill of a trained performer; The most graceful, poised elven silk dancers of Alfheim would find it hard to recreate the waitresses charming routine. It was rather impressive to watch. It was even more impressive to watch when an especially drunken idiot thought themselves lucky. Often groping at them inappropriately, as if they thought anyone in history had ever been impressed and turned on by someone doing so. Instead of being led to some quieter part of the tavern like they hoped, they found themselves being intimately acquainted to the ground as a glass or metal Stein clattered down heavy on their skull. Provoking even more cheers from the customers. Violence was always a well-received form of entertainment, especially from the drunk. Impressive how these agile waitresses and waiters could turn into powerful opponents in a matter of seconds, its all most as if their opponents had forgot they get just as rigorous training as them, to help them deal with the rowdy crowds. Funny that. 

Loki, along with Thor and his friends, were located at the back in the middle of the hall. Their usual place. The Table was a few metres away from Dark wooden walls. On the walls hung thick velvet curtains that draped over the windows. They stretched far up to the ceiling and fell in Azure waterfalls. Random mismatched chairs and stools were placed on either side. The Floor beneath them, along with the rest of the hall, was covered in a thick sticky layer of mead and ale. The table was well worn. Large slashes, random names and symbols were engraved deeply into the sturdy oak panels. Loki often found himself scratching idly into the table when he was unable to contribute to the conversation or simply did not want to converse at all. This happened quite often to Thor annoyance. Right now, he had found a minuscule amount of enjoyment in tapping his feet on the sticky floor, feeling the slight pull of the gooey mixture as his boots left the floor. Carefully, he listened to the sound the boots made. It was like a thin fabric being ripped or when the cooks in the castle mixed cake batter. Apparently, Thor could also hear the sound over all the noise as his hand came down rather harshly down onto the younger Princes leg. Loki snapped out of his little amusing game and locked eyes with his Brother. “ow!”

Loki could easily smell the mead on his brothers breath as he spoke. “Stop that! Its annoying”. Loki smirked he could tell his Brother wanted to yell, but to his credit Thor kept his voice low. A large achievement for him. “why don’t you join in with the rest of the table, instead of finding ways to irritate me. Also! that did not hurt. I only tapped you!”

Loki held the gaze a bit longer, seeing the possibility to bring forth a little lively excitement. The prince went into his usually goading tone and demeanour. “My, my, my Brother! we are easily irritated tonight.” Unlike Thor, Loki lifted his voice to make sure people at the table could hear, if they decided to. He had better places to be, but he damn well was not planning on going completely unheard all night. “If you bothered to make your subject matter a little more, how would you say . . . Stimulating. Then, maybe it would be worth my time to contribute my judgement.”. Loki held a challenging smirk towards his Brother; he could see in the blondes face he was too drunk to care for an argument of words. If he said the right words, he could rile Thor up so he could at least entertain himself by humiliating his Brother in some way. If the Norns were in his favour, he could get them both kicked out and Loki would be Free to get a bath and leave this ungodly place. An aggravated Thor would of course need to be dealt with but that was a risk worth taking. 

His impish smile faded though when Thor mumbled something under his Breath, turning back to his conversation. Completely dismissing Loki. Rolling his eyes theatrically, the younger slumped against the back of his chair. “illiterate oaf” This time Loki kept his voice quiet, clearly not even his Brother wished to humour him tonight. He did not wish to be a burden to anyone else.

The table was too small for the group on a regular day. Today it was made even more ridiculously small as they found themselves sharing with an additional group of warriors. Thor had struck a conversation with them during training and invited them to accompany them. There were five in total. the leader, Loki assumed due to the only slightly higher IQ than the others, was currently sat to the right of Thor. Loki was sat to the left. Even though he hated to admit it, he felt safe being close to his Brother. To Loki’s left sat a large man. He was not large like the rotund Volstagg, nor was he packed with muscle like Thor, he was average. He was however Tall. Really tall. Loki assuredly assumed he had giants’ blood in him, he easily hit seven and a half foot. He was not old, but his grizzled gnarled features added a few years. A distinct scar ran through his lip on the right of his face, it jutted out at a sharp angle towards the top end. It looked ugly and deep. He had greasy muddy hair that was adorned with braids and beads. Overall, in Loki’s eyes, not a pleasant man to lay eyes on. Neither was he pleasant to sit next to and smell, though to give the behemoth of a men credit no one else smelled like roses either, including himself. Loki’s eyes shifted around further to find one other sat at the end of the table next to the ‘Leader’, Both of which were sporting red hair. Brothers, he believes he overheard them mention. The one next to Thor however had a softer face compared to the other, which made him look slightly younger. They seemed to be in the middle of an exciting conversation. Though Loki could only assume as he’d heard no interesting words come out of the men’s mouths, but Thors body language told him otherwise. Something about hand to hand combat. ‘Drivel’ loki mused. 

The other two were sat at the other end. One was talking enthusiastically to Volstagg while trying to get Hogunn involved, He had long blonde hair and looked to be slightly older than Volstagg. The other, bless his mislead heart, looked to be trying to get close to Sif. Loki could only hope to see him go flying into the crowed behind if he managed to piss Sif of enough. In loki’s experience that did not take much, he had a few bruises to prove such a theory true. That would make this even a little more exciting. Fandral was currently sat directly across from him. ‘Marvellous’. He was currently in the middle of conversation with a waitress. He had one arm slung over the back of his chair, which was pushed out from under the table, his head was angled slightly upwards. She was giggling, leaning in, and devouring the conversation up. Loki for sure thought she was moments away from jumping straight into the blondes lap . ‘Idiot’. 

‘The wench had only come to drop of more alcohol’, Loki thought bitterly. Wait! why was he bitter, they had full right to do what they were doing. Still this did not quench the sick, heated feeling he felt on his cheeks and stomach. The dark-haired prince however was cut short on his contemplating.

A large weight came crashing into his side. Loki found himself being surged into his brother side. His face colliding with Thor’s shoulder. The sauce of the sudden heavy impact luckily did not follow him. Thor being the sturdy man he was not set completely off balance and managed to steady Loki, so he did not go crashing past him to the floor. 

“HEY!, Lo you okay!”. Loki felt Thors grip tighten as he was brought up. When he was right again, he was met with Thor Blue eyes, He saw only slight concern so whatever was going on around him was not serious. What caught him off guard was the annoyance he saw in Thor face, he did just barge into him and no one likes that happening to them, but still it did not sit right with Loki. Weird. 

Loki was still a little shaken at the sudden contact but quickly found himself more confused at the situation. “Yeah, I’m fine” giving him a curt nod. He was quickly caught of guard again from the booming laughter from behind him. Loki turned around towards the ruckus, Thor leaned over slightly to peek over his shoulder. Volsatagg was currently howling with laughter, presumably it was the blonde man who made laugh, as Sif nor Hogann had the ability to make someone laugh like that. Loki also realised quite quickly that the large grizzly man was leaning towards him. He was facing volstagg and Loki put the man’s back down to what caused the sudden impact. Turns out the man was just trying to get out of the way From Volstaggs flying arm which he had thrown back in the middle of hysterics. The low hanging chandelier however was not so lucky and was now swinging hazardously above everyone. Loki let out small laugh, out of relief. He knows how chaotic a bar fight could get, and he was not ready to be called a womanly cheater for using magic again if a fight happened to break out.

Loki was just about to stand and reach for the swinging light when a sword shot right through the middle of the it. Stopping it dead. Loki followed the sword down to see it belonged to Fandral, who was not even looking at the light. Instead he was gazing at the same smitten wench who still had not left. So smitten it would not surprise Loki if they ran off now to go mindlessly rut in an empty alcove or hallway somewhere. Fandrals hands searching, touching every part of Him- HER! -Loki meant her! Shit! how much had he drunk. Loki picked up his Beer stein and looked in. empty. Quite a lot then, considering that was his fifth. Looking back over to the two he saw them still giggling and laughing. Why did this bother him so. The girl then began leaning dangerously close to the Dashing man’s lips. ‘Enough of the fraternizing’ Loki internalised.

“Excuse me!” Loki was sure he had asked loud enough. It seemed he had not as she still paid him no mind, inching closer and closer to his pri- her prize, definitely her prize. Loki allowed him self smirk. 

BANG! The table jolted at the impact of loki’s riding boot crashing into the underside. For the people who were not lucky enough to be holding their drinks at the time, now had to watch as their precious golden liquid was spilled all over the table. It spread quickly to the sides and began dripping down to the floor. The whole group simultaneously yelped out of surprise. Thor and Volstagg were quick to grabbing Their Steins and shoving them under the waterfalls flowing of the table sides. The two red headed men had shot up trying to avoid the liquid soaking them. Others were attempting to brush and shake the liquid off their clothes, peevishly cursing to themselves. Loki was smart, he had magic which let him direct the liquid away from him. Everyone was annoyed. They threw around accusations about what had happened, whose fault it was, all but Loki who was sitting crossed armed. looking rather smugly at the waitress. Who was now gawking at the mess in front of her.

“oh dear! would you look at that.” Loki clicked his tongue twice “That just won’t do will it. Not at all. Say waitress! would you mind replacing our drinks. If you would be so kind. that is your job isn’t it”. Loki watched as the girl squirmed uncomfortably under his glare. He made sure to punctuate the last few words. The woman heard him this time. 

She quickly looked at Fandral, whose legs were luckily not under the table, so he did not get covered in mead, then to the mess and finally to the tray she had been holding. The tray which she used to carry the drinks she was dropping off more than 10 minutes ago. “y-ye-YES! Certainly, I’ll get some more right away sir.” Loki raised a neatly plucked eyebrow at this. “So-s-sorry! I mean your highness!” she gave a quick bow before running off to fetch more. 

Loki turned his attention back to the table, he noticed a few eyes on him. He was not surprised. Loki would also assume himself the culprit straight away. Not that they would do anything about it though. Thor was right next to him. To level the tension however he carefully lifted his hand and felt his magic to clear the loose alcohol off the table. To others it looked like he had dried the liquid up. It had miraculously vanished. The shout of anguish and irritation that came from further form the centre of the hall told his brother Thor better. He looked to where the shout came from. A man in the middle of the hall who was now drenched in alcohol. The older prince slowly turned to his Brother who was now placing a hand over his mouth to stop his giggles spilling from his lips. He stared at his little Brother Impishly laughing at himself, he was completely in a world of his own. Thor thought about yelling but a brilliant idea then sprung to his head. He silently picked up his drink that he had managed to save form the incident before, which he also knew was also a Loki incident. Slowly he hovered the Stein over his Brothers head then tipped the Glass.

Thor sometimes forgot the speed of his Brother as before he could shout his victory celebration. The wet sensation smacked him the face. His eyes were closed as he felt the droplets role down his face, still holding the Stein up over lokis head. Loki had managed to use his magic to divert the course of the water. Of course, he did. “You snake in the Grass!”

“Brother it is as if you forget I’m a sorcerer. Do keep trying, it amuses me greatly”. This evoked much laughter between the Brothers. Thor ran a hand down his face, teasingly flicking the remnants into his Brothers face. Loki scrunched up his face and flinched away. Both now quietly laughing to themselves.

A few moments passed and Thor returned to his conversations with the other men. A waitress, not the same as earlier, Thank the Norns, came with two large trays full of new Mead and ale to drink. Loki declined his, not wanting to arouse any more unwanted imagery. She then cleaned the empty ones away and was gone a lot sooner than the other one, even though Fandral did try to chat. Loki had seen that Waitress flirting with a lot of the servant girls before, Fandral definitely wasn’t her type. With that Loki was left alone again.

“Ergi”

Loki crooked his head towards the giant man sat to next to him, he could not have heard him right. He had not spoken all night, perhaps he spoke in a thick accent. “I beg your pardon, what did you say” Loki narrowed his eyes.

The man took a mouthful of his mead placing it down past Loki closer to Thor. Loki twisted his face at the strong stench radiating off him. wiping his mouth with his forearm, he stooped down low, almost to Loki’s’ eye level. “you heard me, you’re an Ergi.” He licked his lips and gave a sneer. His voice was hoarse and low.

“I hope you do know I could challenge you for call-!”

“Calling you what? the truth. Besides even if you did, you would have to beat me justly.” The men lurched forward, closer. Loki held and didn’t move. This didn’t stop the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. “you wouldn’t be able to beat me justly, would you? You can’t, you use magic which is Argr. Which would prove me and many other people right.” The man spoke quiet. Clearly, he was too cowardly to let everyone on the table hear him. “We don’t have two princes of Asgard we have one Prince and a Princess.” he spat.

“I’m not a Princess” Loki remained passive “I’m sure you wouldn’t insult the women in here for being manly due to them being Warriors”

“Of course not, they don’t rely on cheap party tricks to cheat themselves a victory. Like a cowardly child.” He slowly reached for his drink again, causing him to lean over Loki. The yong Prince could feel warm moisture of the mans breath in the shell of his ear. His skin prickled and crawled, “you’re a woman . . .and my bet is you probably like taking it like on-“

“Thor!” Loki pushed himself up. “Thor, I’m truly sorry but I need to go.”. Thor and the two men, now joined by a womanless Fandral, turned Towards him. The taller man simply sat back in his seat drinking.

The older Prince looked towards his Brother. He looked a little distressed but that was fair this was not his scene and Thor was impressed he lasted this long. “okay, do you need me to join you. I know you’re not a fan of the dark” Loki knew he was lightly teasing, and he wasn’t wrong but in this moment it didn’t help.

“No! Thor I am not a child! I just . . .just need to get some sleep” Loki heard the snigger form the man next to him. If he were anywhere else with just him, it would be different. Unfortunately, Loki knew there were more people here that didn’t like magic nor him. They did not need any more reasons to hate him. “I’ll just see you in the morning. Goodnight” He turned and addressed everyone else on the table before he dismissed himself. Loki then came to the man. Because of the man’s height, he came to eye level even when sat down. Loki felt as the man’s hand wrapped around his slim wrist holding him in place, Loki kept his eyes on the exist at the other side of the hall. He could feel the man inching closer to him.

“Good night little princess, I hope you don’t run into monster on you way home” Loki snatched his wrist away and began to walk. Loki had names thrown at him before but that was it, Just names. That felt different that was more . . . visceral. He weaved Through the crowd keeping his focus forward. A mixture of the smell, the heat of the hall and those words made him want to vomit. This was not the way he wanted the night to end. He wanted to get away, far away. 

Fandral Watched carefully as Loki stood up. He noticed an uncomfortableness in the younger princess eyes as he said good night. Fandral gave a small wave and a smile goodbye, wishing the young man a trouble-less night. Everyone else turned back to their conversations but Fandral kept watch. Admittedly, he had not been paying 100% of his attention to Thors Conversation. Hand to hand combat was not his favourite. The swords man had been zoning in and out of the conversation. He watched as the large man’s hand slid up to Loki’s wrist. The Grizzled man leant over to the young Prince, whispering something his ear. Whatever was said was not pleasant or comforting as he saw Loki whip his hand away and Briskly walk off, fast. 

That did not sit well with Fandral at all, but Loki was gone at least nothing more could be said, besides he could always deal with the warrior in tomorrows training. A quick sigh left his lips as he turned his attention back to Thors little conversation. He liked Loki. He first met him when he was a toddler, a lot friendlier back then. This caused him to feel affection to the younger, even if it was not returned. This made him feel a need to protect to the young Prince. For Now, he could relax without the risk of that escalating further. Or so he thought.

The bottom of his Stein hadn’t even left the table before the grizzled man stood up form the table. An unsettling grin spread across his face. It was a grin Fandral had seen on many an unpleasant man before and one that never failed to make him feel uneasy. Fandral had been a thief for quite a large portion of his life, an admirable one but a thief nevertheless. Naturally, he became good at reading people, separating the good from the bad, the dishonourable to the honourable and the brave form the cowardly. Looking at this man he could read many intentions none of which were pleasant. He looked behind the man and noticed the young prince just existing the door but not before glancing behind. Fandral noticed the young princes’ eyes widen like prey caught in a trap, even from this far distance. Obviously, loki had clocked the grizzled man standing up and leaving the table. The prince quickly bolted out of the door. Not a nice man indeed. Fandral could have some fun with this, he allowed himself a quick smirk before clearing his throat to speak. 

“And where do you think you off to” he kept his tone cool and unassuming, did not want to frighten the poor man. He did however raise it above the noise of everyone else on the table, to grab a bit of attention. Frandral the Dashing was truly one for a show. Never skip the foreplay. “getting up and leaving without even giving your friends a good night, very curt of you” This grabbed the attention of his friends who then began complaining mockingly at him, messy around with him. The man turned around. Fandral saw the confidence in his posture and the faking innocence he portrayed in grimy face.

“Well I was just off to see the prince. He said he had something to show me an-“

“is that so, because form what I observed our Prince seemed to be giving off a completely different signal to what you have read” Fandrals eyes were locked onto the large man, giving him a pleasantly smile.

“and how would you know that”

Fandral tapped a hand on the table and leaned back in his chair, propping his elbow up on Sifs chair, who was still ignoring her own less creepy advancer. “Well you got me there I wouldn’t. but Let me give you this advice.” he wet his lips and gave his well clipped goatee a scratch “I wouldn’t want to find myself in a place the Prince doesn’t want me, as that would be guaranteeing a punishment worse than death” Fandral Brought his honied mead to his lips and took a large gulp.

Fandral drained the remnants of his drink, only putting it down when he was greeted with the bottom of an empty Stein. Luckily, the man was still there. By now loki should be in the royal wing, which was the safest place on Asgared. Still, Fandral could see the gears in the man’s head grounding to a bad decision. 

“Well it’s a good job our little Prince wants me there then isn’t it”

‘Persistent Prick’ fandral mumbled to himself. “You Aren’t going anywhere!”, He voice was loud, and it held a warning to it. Safely to say if the people on the table were not paying full attention before they were now. The man wanted to make it a Show, Fandral could make it an entire sceptical.

Thor had finally clocked in on the situation, he noticed Fandral watching the large man. He addressed Fandral while staring cautiously at the large man “What seems to be the Problem my friend”

The round-faced red head sat next to Thor also chimed in “yes, Svaoilfari are you causing Problems”

“Well, my dear Friend and acquaintance, it would seem Svaoilfari here thinks its fine to go into your little Brothers Bedroom uninvited, with some not so agreeable intention. Isn’t that right” Fandral gave a grin and a wink at the Grizzled man who was now no longer smiling like a lunatic instead dread was plastered his face. 

Some people would fear about how quickly Thor jumped to anger. In fact, it would be most wise to do so. Fandral however never claimed to be wise. He found it hilarious. It was one of the reasons he was so drawn to him as a kid. The scene played out in the same way anyone would expect a fight against Thor would happen. The grizzled man had Fought Thor this morning and to his credit lasted a long time. Now however Thor punches had emotion behind them. The first hit was to the gut, which sent the man barrelling into some other table. Sending mead and food soaring into the air. Fandral was quick to stand on the table and give a loud cheer to his Friend. Better to make it look like something fun than serious. This sent some encourage meant to others, who joined in the hollering. Fandral swiftly jumped down from the table when he noticed Thors punch to the face had knocked him out cold. Carefully He placed a hand onto the prince’s shoulder. Thors head snapped around to him.

“Goodness. Three rounds into today’s sparring and you still haven’t had your appetite quenched. Anyone would think you had it out for the poor man.” He made his voice theatrical and exaggerate, this caused the crowed to splinter between laughter and cheering. He gave a quick squeeze to Thors shoulder. Luckily, Thor was quickly out of his rage. Fandral did not want to kill the man. You would not be able to teach him another lesson if he were already dead. The two men returned to the table leaving the other on the floor. He would not be going anyway for a few hours or even days by the looks of it. 

The rest of the larger man’s group apologised for the inappropriate behaviour. They left not long after, feeling a little awkward afterwards. The regular group that consisted of the warriors three, lady Sif and Thor watched as the four men tried to figure out how to lift their giant friend out of the Hall. He was so tall, he needed to be carried horizontally. Fandral and Volstagg had lost count of how many times the man’s head had clattered into tables, chairs, and on one occasion someone’s backside. They were wetting themselves with laughter by the time the group made it to the door. ‘Good’ Fandral thought to himself, ‘he shouldn’t be of bother for a while.’’

The Friends grouped closer together and began their usually banter with one another. Hurling light insults and snarky jibes at one another. It was all light-hearted fun until Sif reached into her satchel and retrieved two large bottles of Dragon breath liquor. Thus, commencing a rather heated Drinking game, that got them burning through more hours of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was kind of long, but it didn't make sense to cut this scene in half.  
> Yes I did use the horses name from Norse mythology for that arsewholes name. If you don't know that story look it up at your risk. It is kinda hilarious especially how Neil Gaiman writes it. 
> 
> Next chapter doesn't have creepy dude in it you'll be glad to know. Its got a plot item in into, how exciting.


	3. Somethings up in asgard, and its not just the strange happening.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night has come to the end and its time for gang to finish up and make their way home. This would usually go without a hitch however Fandral comes across something rather odd. It could be something magical or the drink getting to him either way Fandral is certain something is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God! This chapter was a struggle. There were many possible variations of this chapter, most of which were more dramatic than the version I ended up with. But I needed to lay down a few building blocks before I could get to the dramatics.  
> I started off not liking this chapter which is why it took awhile however I ended up liking it by the end, which is a relief.

The crowds had cleared away for the night. Most of the candles had burnt out, leaving the hall in a faint glow. The wooden floor had received another generous layer of alcoholic varnish, emanating a pungent smell. The noise was gone. It was empty. Well, almost empty.

The first prince of Asgard along with his four friends were currently meandering through the obstacle course of furniture. Stumbling, tripping, and bumping into almost every table and chair they passed. Though it would be hard to believe they were a group from looking at them, as each of them had managed to drift meters apart from one another. They were well and truly drunk. Straight lines turned into veering zigzags and slanted pathways. Walls, floors, and ceiling seemed to move and rock like a deck of a ship on the high seas. It was truly an amusing scene. Thor was currently the closest to the door but found himself crashing into a cloak stand, which led him to profusely apologise to the inanimate object after mistaking the forgotten cloak as a person. Volstagg had left the idea of slaloming between tables to the others, instead he had gone for a physical method of simply pushing everything in his path aside. It was proving effective if not rather noisy. 

Hogunn was currently supporting Sif. The two of them staggering towards the exit. Sif was trying her best to keep the meal and mead down. She had drunk the most out of the group. She had started off slow at the beginning of the night however the drinks went down particularly fast when one of the Einherjar, a tall man with a thin scruff on his chin, challenged her to a rather heated drinking contest. Being the competitive woman she was, the thrill of the challenge boiled up inside of her in an instant, pouncing for the opportunity to prove herself. Both were already tipsy, but it seemed the guard was even more so; it did not take long for him to be bested, having been the first to hurl the remnants of the contest back up. Sif then let out a mighty victory cry as she flung her Stein to the floor, exclaiming for “Another!”. Spectators hailing and goading her with raucous cheers. Most women would find it annoying to be constantly challenged by the man who thought themselves better, not Sif. Sif was more than glad to put them back in their place and receive the admiration and awe struck looks gained form besting them. In fact, she welcomed the men stupid enough to challenge her. She was one to gloat and bask in her glory. Modesty was not in her arsenal. I doubt she even knew how to spell the word. 

Now however was not the time for gloating. Unless you counted being in a jabbering, oblivious, inebriated state something to brag about. Hogunn and Sif were slowest as the Grimm warrior often had to stop and readjust his hold every few steps, as the poor woman kept sliding down, unmindful to the world around her. Mumbling incoherent sentences as they trudged along.

Hogunn had drunk as much as the others but in truth it was hard to tell. It was hard to tell anything about that man. Sadness, joy, and anger all seemed to merge into the same stoic expression. He only spoke when necessary, not finding the need for idle chit chat or small talk. They were odd moments, where the man allowed himself to slip from the Grimm appearance, they were few and far between and only seemed to happen when around the group. After all they were the only people in Asgard to Know him at a personal level. A Personal level for Hogunn that was. 

Fandral was currently scouring the floor like a magpie. Often people would drop valuable items, which in Fandrals mind were perfectly fine for the taking. ‘Finders keepers’ was phrase he was happy to live by and had done for many years. So far, they had been no luck, just knocked over steins, shards of a glass and an apple that had turned into three, although the Dashing warrior quickly put that down to the booze as he was quite assured apples didn’t have the ability to vanish and reappear. A few coins had been littered around, which he pocketed. No need for them to go to waste. 

Fandral was about to round a table when he noticed something in the corner of his eyes. Under one of the long tables was a jewel. Glowing, green, and brilliant it was hard to miss, even if he was a man blind in one eye and partially blind in the other. It seemed to admit a strange aura, he could feel thin tendrils of energy pulling him toward the oddity, enticing him to look closer like long finger beckoning him in. Carefully he sunk down, resting his hand on one of the chairs to steady himself, mouth slightly a gape. Slowly he reached out, only to lose his footing causing him to fall onto his backside. Sending the hall into a spiralling dance. Shaking his head, trying his best to banish the spinning, shaking however seemed to be having the opposite effect, he stretched back out for the odd jewel. Fingers brushed passed and gripped around the brilliantly green gem, it seemed to hum with life. Enchanted possibly, or hel! It could be purely magic; it was glowing after all. The blonde man brought it closer to his face to inspect, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, turning it in different angles, squinting, scrunching his face and catching it in the dim glow of the candles. On inspection, it was encased in a golden ring that had a hoop protruding out of the top end, which he presumed would allow it to be attached to a chain of some kind. Maybe a pendant or necklace. The stone was translucent, coloured in a deep, lush, forest green. Strangely, the glow had seemed to diminish slightly while holding it. 

“Fandral!?”

The blond jumped at the abrupt disturbance, hitting his head on the table. Nearly dropping the jewel. He frantically shoved it in his pocket to avoid more risks. He would always be able to examine it later. Placing his hand on the sticky floor he pushed himself up, swiftly finding the need to balance himself from the sudden movement “My-uh apologies Friends, it would-err-um . . . it seems! my legs wished to have me better a-acquainted with the ground! I won’t be a minute”. 

“Well Ss-hurry up Fandral the quite plain! I’m, *hick* cold!” Sif freed herself form Hogunns steady Grasp and began Frantically rubbing her arms as if she were in the icy landscapes of Jotenheim. Thor laughed at her dramatic exaggeration and joined in. Fandral rolled his eyes. 

Shoving his hand in his pocket, he checked to see if the gem was still there, he could have easily missed the small opening of his pocket in this state, feeling the warm thrums of what he assumed was magic and the smooth surface of the stone, he turned his attention back to getting to the exist. Then made his way through the last of the tables to where the group was waiting.

“Right then, shall we be off!” Holding both of hands out in a Friendly Gesture, he offered a quick smile trying to put his best sobor face on, before finding a large hand being slapped on his back. Knocking the wind out of him. Followed by the bellow of hearty laughter. Volstagg, clearly.

“What a good night we had!” Volstaggs booming voice soaring into the chill night air, starting to recite his favourite parts off the night. Fandral found himself being quickly led out the doors by the large man, His feet stumbling to keep up with the sudden pace. Firm grip still secure on Fandrals shoulders.

The Grounds outside were empty, tables and benches that decorated the front had accumulated a light frost over them. Creating a wonderful cluster of stars sparkling all over the ground. Softly lit lamps paved the dirt path that would eventually lead them Through the common training Grounds to the palace. Of Course, Sif, Volstagg, Hogann and himself would not follow the Prince into the place, their homes resided outside the Palace grounds. On the upper ring. All but Fandral, who’s house was located a little further into the city centre. Not to mention, they were a bit old for sleepover and staying any longer in group could only encourage them to drink more. Asgardian livers were sturdy, but even they had a limit. Fandral was almost certain he was close to reaching it. 

Fandral took the time to drop focus on the group’s conversation wanting to look up at the Trees that were beginning to lose their leaves. Admiring the beauty of Asgards night hour. Soft rustling was carried carelessly in the wind accompanied by the gentle clinics of metal from the group’s armours. 

The large golden Beacon, that was the palace could be seen clearly above the canopies of the ambering tree. It stood out for miles, Reaching high into the sky, like the snow peaked mountains outside the city. Fandral often mused about the castle being shaped like a pan pipe. At the top, was the royal wing. That was where the Odinsons resided. It was hard to reach place, as it should be, from the outside unless you had a Ship or Creature that could fly. As a kid Fandral often liked to Brag about how he could easily climb to the top. He had yet to fulfil that promise mind you. He brought his gaze back down to the frosted floor and began to think on Volstaggs comment. 

It had been a good night, they had laughed and cheered. lots of drinking, lots and lots, and even met New friends. Wait. It had not been all Good, Fandrals mind began to wonder closer to the beginning of the night. That man. That man had not been good had he. By this point Fandral could not remember a clear face, the features of the man kept morphing and changing in his hazy mind. He could remember one thing. He was a prick, he spoiled Loki’s night. Loki . . . Oh by the Norn’s, he had forgotten about Loki. A pang of ugly guilt twisted and lurched in Fandrals Stomach, remembering the Young Princes face as he fled through the doors. Someone one should check on him, He knew the Prince was not one to regularly seek out help for his problems. Maybe he should go check on him. Fandrals Thoughts were swiftly Disrupted.

A sharp snap caught the blonds Attention. He looked over to the thick brush that was to side of the path. It was dark. There were only thick dark outlines of the bushes visible. Most likely an animal. It seemed too heavy for an animal that could be found in the city though. Fandral was just about to turn back to the group when he spotted something. A faint green flash from behind the bushes. It was quick, gone in an instant. He saw it though. Undeniably, he saw it. The tree directly above where the green emanated from began to slightly shake. A few leaves fell as something came out of the tree. A bird possibly black or white, it was hard to tell in the dark light, flew Out, gliding into the night air. ‘Ah, just an Animal then.’ 

He knew he had drunk a lot; he was certain he did not drink to point he would start hallucinating strange lights. He turned to the group and realised they were all still engaged in their conversation. They had not noticed anything. Fandral gave his head a quick shake, what had he been thinking about before, the blond racked his brain for a few moments before shrugging and joining the group in their conversation. He kept a side eye on the bushes. Maybe he had drank enough to start hallucinating light shows.

Eventually they had made it to the Doors of the palace. The doors led to the healing wing of the castle, which made sense as they were standing in the common training grounds. Accidents whether intentional or not happened quite frequently here. To the right of the door was a large wall that stood about 15 feet high and stuck out from the side of the doorway about 35 feet, till it met a grand looking archway. The wall was lined with dark evergreens that stood long and thin. White flower was planted all along the base of the wall, smelling sweet and crisp. The Archway led down and out of the palace grounds down to the city as well as housing.

“Well, I hate see – to see you leave but . . . but the night is over, and we should sh- s-sleep” Thor left his hand aloft as if he were making a toast to the night. To which the rest of the group gave a hearty cheer and raised their fists high.

Volstagg, who was only slightly less drunk as the others, quickly stepped in before anyone could disagree and demand for more drinks “yes, I’m afraid we should bring this night to end. I know I do not work my best on a little night’s sleep.” There were a few mumbling protests off Sif but that was quickly put to rest by Thor offering her a Sparing the next day. Sif, who was a lady always up for a brawl, was quick to counter with a swift punch to his side and Viking holler of “you’re on!”. 

Everyone said their goodbyes before the warriors Three and Sif began their walk to the archway to get home. They had walked a few meters, the sound of the heavy doors closing behind them, when Fandrals brain decided to remind him of what he was thinking about earlier, before he found himself being interrupted by the green flash.

“Loki!”

The man said it with such conviction and passion that Sif, Hogunn and Volstaggs whipped their heads around to meet the blonds face. There faces were look of concern and confusion. Hogunn gave a quick glance to Volstagg before starting to look warily around himself “Where?”  
Fandral, who had now just came to the dawning realisation he had said that out loud, hastily raised his hands and began to shake them “No no, not here, I mean . . . no wait. Look . . . just go on with ou – out me. I need to speak to Thor. About that thing from earlier” The group quickly gave a few looks, nodding slowly and exchanging a few worried glances before returning to leaving.

Fandral gave a quick sigh, that was embarrassing. 

“hey Fandral” Looking back towards the group he saw volstagg looking over his shoulder, a warm smile on his face “don’t be out too late, I’ll be checking on you, to come wake you up in the morning! I know what you are like!”

The blonde gave a breathy laugh “I won’t! I’ll be in bed long before daybreak, my Friend” He gave a quick last wave goodbye, before setting off to catch up with Thor.

The hall was dimly lit, and he could just make out Thor Near the end. A few of the Einharjar were patrolling the halls, standing guard on certain doors. Fandral was a familiar face so there was no alarm for the Princes’ friend stumbling blind drunk into the castle. It happened more frequently than the group cared to admit. He could see the Prince all the way down at the other end, just about to open the door to main section of the castle. Fandral Knew he would not be allowed in there at this time without some higher up, he needed Thor.

“Thor!”

Nothing, he was just about to yell for a second time when another green flash appeared through the windows. Catching Thors attention no longer became the priority. Swiftly, he ran to the window, peering outside to try and get glimpse of the source. There was nothing. Nothing but bushes, and flowers. He put his face closer to window, so close he could feel the cold air radiating off the glass. He looked left then right, crushing his face against the glance in a desperate effort to help. Nothing. Carefully he reached down, into his pocket and picked out the jewel from earlier. The stone was no longer glowing. It looked like a regular jewel you would hang of a necklace. Great, he was just imagining that as well. Something was up. He carefully placed the jewel back into his pocket. Looking down the corridor, he realised Thor was gone. “shit” Fandral let out a sigh. There was no way he was going to be allowed up to royal wing in this state. 

He doubted Thor would speak to loki. They were both as bad as each other when it came to dealing with their emotions. Thor did not even give the slightest hint as to him remembering the occurrence happening, despite his sudden anger towards it earlier on. To be fair to him the Prince had drunk enough to knock out a sailor. Fandral himself had only just remembered the event himself so maybe there was chance Thor would check on his brother. Though it would probably have to be in the morning, he doubted Loki would be awake at this time. Fandral ran fingers though his wavy locks as he slowly turned towards the exit. Guilt began seeping up again. It did not feel good. He began musing to himself. He could always bring it up tomorrow, though how would you start that conversation. Loki face kept running through his mind, the vulnerability in his face. It was rare to see the Prince like that, his aloof façade rarely cracked. It made him feel sick to stomach, in most situations the younger Prince would have made an example of the man and then walk off. Why did he not he then? Yet another thing to add to the list of bizarre things happening that night. Lifting his hands to the door he pushed them open and began his journey home. 

Fandral took his time wandering through the hollow streets, purposely taking the longest route, enjoying the quietness. Admiring The golden city under the bright moonlight. Watching the soft water ripple as he walked over ornate bridges, reflections of the moon spattered over the surface. Listened to the cool wind shake the trees. The crisp air sobering him slightly, bringing him back down to reality. He had seen the sights a thousand times before but Asgard held beauty that never ceased to astound.

fandral reached into his pocket that was located on the inside of his jacket, pulling out a piece of Fabric. It was light pink, woven out of the finest of silks. No more than fifteen by ten centimetres large. Flowers in a darker thread than the material were embroidered into the cloth. He rubbed the fabric between his finger, feeling the softness and comfort before bringing it up to brush passed his lips and nose. He closed his eyes and took in the familiar scent. The smell, that had faded over time, was soft but sweet, Like a brisk spring morning. Many people keep objects to remind themselves of who they had loved and lost. This fabric was that special item for Fandral. He kept it on him everywhere. Most people believed the fabric stemmed from an obvious reason; it belonged to a maiden who had managed to capture the rouges heart, to which The Dashing warrior would dismiss them light-heartedly and diverge the subject matter smoothly onto another topic. Those people would be right; however, this is one love story Fandral the Dashing did not want to boost about nor talk about. The fabric brought back many a pleasant memory. Like most keepsakes however it brought back a lot of memories laced with bitter grief. Fandral would like to think himself free of the guilt he felt towards this woman alas it was still there. Smaller now of course but sill buried deep within. He allowed himself to fall back into older memories as he walked along the lonely streets. Reminiscing about what he had lost, pitying himself, slowly gliding the cut piece of fabric back into his pocket.

It would have been a pleasant walk home if he were still aiming for home. He slipped into a thinner alleyway, walked down the cobbled pathway until he came to a door. They were old oak doors that had intricate pattering on the panel. A red sign hung above the door and a curtain were layered over it, they hung down to the floor and was pulled apart by two gold ropes at either side. On the sign it read 

“The tit-elating peaks of Ass-Gard”. A Brothel. How classy.

It had become a bad habit, he admitted that, finding himself outside these doors. The strong intoxicating smell of incense becoming familiar, leaving you feeling dizzy and lightheaded. The potent incense however was better than smelling the sweat and odour of bodily fluids that lingered in the air. Red shear cloths were hung from the sealing like hammocks. They were stuffed with plants that spilled over the edges. It made the place feel exotic and dangerous. The vines reminded Fandral of the dense jungles of Alfheim. Pottery and small metal statue were tastefully scattered around. The girls were dressed in loose fitting dresses that bellowed behind them as they gracefully saunter around, each one offering him a smile or a wink. The room was basked in a golden glow, illuminating and romanticising everyone’s best features.  
He hated it. He hated how he found himself spending the night here more often than at home. Yet he kept finding himself here, so much so he knew everyone in here personally. He knew what made them laugh, why they were here, what they had done before, what they hoped to do after, if they wanted to leave that was. Hel, he would even go as far to call some of them his Friends, with benefits mind you. Fandral shared some of his darker secrets with the ladies here. Most likely due to the fact his friends, Thor, Loki and the rest were not really the sensitive types. The girls here however appreciated the chatter and had many experiences with all types of relationships.

Despite how much he hated himself for coming here, he found comfort. And no, it was not the sex, that was indeed a thrilling benefit he could not deny that, but it was the closeness, being able to make someone else feel appreciated, waking up next to someone. When he was at home, he woke up alone and cold. Here he woke up warm, the soft steady beat of their heart accompanied by their gentle breath. It made him feel less alone. It did not matter who, it just felt good. Fandral supposed it tricked himself into believing he was wanted, tricked him into believing he still had someone. Could have guessed an orphan would find pleasure in activities that involved them getting attention. It was a good way to feel the intimacy of a relationship without needing to fear disappointing them because when the morning came, that was it. You parted ways and said goodbye. There was no waiting for disaster to strike, you were a free man when the night was over. 

Fandral grabbed a few coins out of his pocket, heading to the counter and tipped the Madam, a frightful woman that you would not want to mess with. And he was off. Off to go another round in his bad habit. The girl, Ama, was pretty. He had shared a bed a few times with her. She was witty and knew how to use her tongue, in more way than one. She had long auburn hair and sharp features. She was tall and had a boyish shape to her. Needless to say, she was not soft or round like most of the others. Her voice was low and sultry, like a fine wine.

She escorted him to one of the fancier rooms. Ama opened the door to the room, a gaudy one with dozens of dark pink blankets and red pillows scattered all over, a large bed placed in the centre. To some it may be considered tasteful. To Fandral the room looked rather sleezy, not that he was able to talk. Giving his best smile, one that would convince her he wanted to be here, he laced one arm around the back of her knees and the other around the top of her back, swinging her off he feet. Igniting soft lilting laughter from her thin rosy lips. He meandered his way to the large bed, lightly lowering her down onto the Saturn sheets. hands roomed around, shifting, and pushing under layers of fabrics tying to pry them of. Fandral had already decided he wanted this to be quick, he needed the rest. 

Fandral was true to his words. The two got to work rather quickly, Ama was good, very good, there was no need to be told. She had Fandral rolling down the river of ecstasy in no time. Fandral himself happily returned the favour in equal measure. Both soon found themselves crashing down onto the pillows in shallow pants, a thin layer of sweat covering them. They eventually drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I tried to add a little background to Fandral seen as how he is a majorly underdeveloped character in the movies. Some of its still a secret but if you look at some of the comic/fandom wikis you may be able to see where I'm taking his story. 
> 
> Also its really hard to right drunk characters. I could have slurred the speech more but i'm gonna be honest I never met a drunk person who's slurred there speech. It usually slower and full of pauses. Buuuut, that could just be me and my Friends, who knows.
> 
> The next chapter hopefully won't take as long. hopefully. maybe. possibly.


	4. A breakfast full of issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This week on keeping up with the Odinsons. Loki and Odin have a heated conversation. The audience is left thinking what is new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so er . . . where the hell did june and most of july go. sorry this is so late. I put it off for so long because I felt really intimidated by writing odin and Frigga. But I did it and I hope it turned out alright. 
> 
> Anyway i hope you enjoy I tried my best and I think I did some what decent.

Loki did not sleep well. To be fair, he had not been sleeping well most nights. Which meant he could not just blame his restlessness on the nights . . . uncomfortable encounter. Though it certainly did not help.

last night, on his way back to his room, he had briskly walked through the corridors. Constantly looking over his shoulders, skidding around corners, using the hover plates to climb the levels of the castle rather than his preferred method of the staircases. Obviously, he had thought about reaching for the branches of Yggdrasil to teleport there, but he’d drunk an awful lot. Being in such a dizzying state meant you more than likely ended up miles away from your intended destination alone and asleep in a ditch. Not that he had ever had any first-hand experience in that whatsoever. 

When he got to the room, he slammed the doors shut, the clunk of iron locking the outside world out. Turned his back and slid down them, sitting hunched over at the base of the doors, catching his breath. Once he calmed down, he walked to the washroom and slipped into the large bath, letting his panic seep away along with stench from training. Later he brought himself to bed where he tossed and turned until morning. He wasn't sure why he was so shaken last night, maybe it was a mixture of the alcohol and exhaustion of whole days worth of training. Whatever the reason was he didn't want to dwell on it. 

It was early dawn. He had thrown opened the green curtains that hung over the balcony windows with blast of magic, letting his room bask in the Golden sunrise. It was a big room. Far too big for one person. Lots of space despite the large bed and grand furniture, though it did not seem large. Mainly due to the chaos of the room. Parchment, bowls, bottles, herbs, fauna, and random trinkets were scattered around his bedroom floor. The objects were grouped together in what seemed like temporary workstations. A system that Loki claimed improved workflow immensely. Everyone else just accuses him of being awfully messy. It really did look like a rampaging Bilgesnipe had ran through the room in the middle of the night. however, in Loki’s mind it was organised. In fact, the young prince often went to the efforts to place glamour’s over the room to make it seem spotless, to avoid the maids cleaning it all away, or grumble at him for being so untidy.

One of his bedroom walls was completely occupied by a bookcase. It stretched from floor to ceiling. The shelves were completely full. Books had started to be placed horizontally between the space of the vertical books and the underside of the shelf above. It was full to the brim. The books that were unfortunately too late to get a spot in the bookcase were stacked in towers next to it while others were sprawled open on pages. They ranged from subjects on history, to Astronomy, fiction and to the vast topic of magic. All subjects Loki found great pleasure in. 

The furniture was grand and gaudy, the perfect fit for royalty. It was crafted from the darkest oak, embellished with green and gold accents. Personal to loki's taste and image. A large chandelier hung in the middle of the room, black with gold accents. A large bed sat against the wall between the balcony side and the bookcase. Nearly all the spaces on the wall were occupied by shelving that held, boxes, reused jam jars and potions bottles. They held pieces of vegetation, dead things, parts of creatures and small things that were alive that should be very very dead. The room stunk of strong herbs and smouldering wood, much like Loki did. It was the true room of a young Wizard raised by a witch. 

Today he was planning on going down to the training ground however he had declined Thors offer earlier this morning. Faking a mild illness. The Oaf did not put much of his stubborn nature on display, giving up the persistent asking quicker than usual. Loki was going, but he was planning on being the only person knowing of his presence. He had time to think over the conversation last night during his hours of restlessness and he came to a very strong conclusion. Which was the grizzled behemoth would have to run into a little bit of trouble. Nothing too serious just a little inconvenience and humiliation brought upon him. Something that would spook him and perhaps cause him to be a little more cautious; **and** something that would humour the prince greatly, obviously.

Loki slid off his bed and meandered to the large mirror, stepping over the various objects on the floor. While looking at his reflection, Loki ran his delicate fingers through curly locks, teasing out the tangles and knots. His hair had reverted to its natural shape, after the bath last night. It hung in inky loops framing his face, the soft curved shapes contrasting nicely against his sharp but elegant features. Stopping at just above his lean shoulders. Short for the Asgardian standard. 

Right now, it was mess in Loki’s opinion. Reaching for the jar of oil he kept on the counter to the side, he scooped a generous amount on to this finger. Hovering the other hand underneath to catch the drips. In quick motions, he rubbed it between his hand warming it up before slicking back his hair. He ran quick hands over his curls, straightening and flattening them out all the way down to the nape of his neck. Repeating the motion several times until they were Neat. Before rubbing the excess oil form his hands, he ran his thumb over his eyebrows, pushing the hair into the same uniform direction. The oil smelt vagally like vanilla bean and sandalwood.

He slowly then turned his attention to his attire. He gave quick flick of his wrist, which ignited his entire body into green wisps of magic, dissipating just as quickly as they appeared, leaving Loki in his Usual light armour. A light green tunic that covered all the way down to his arms. He wore black leather jerkin over the top, that stopped just above the knees and was cinched at the waist by a thick belt. The green sleeves were tucked into the fingerless gloves he wore. The leather gauntlets layered over the top were stained a deep brown and had three buckles running up the underside of them, clasping them in place. On is bottom half he wore simple leather with slim riding boots. He much preferred the lightweight attire to the heavy armours most other warriors wore. It allowed him to move faster and slip into the shadows quicker. In addition, he didn’t find the need for armour, his magic automatically healed him so minor and including some major injuries were not much of a worry. He gave a quick tug to the fabric, rolling his shoulders back and adjusting the fit before heading out.

He made his way through the archway that connected his bedroom to the small lounge area; Swiftly, he grabbed a few of his throwing daggers out of storage chest he kept open. Dissipating them with a flash of green into the depths of his magic pockets. The clicks of his riding boots filled the lounge as he walked across the marble floor to the door. Wrapping booth hands around the handles of the double doors, he gave affirm twist and swung the door open. 

Before loki could fulfil his plans of casual revenge, he had other things to attend to. More important things. Breakfast!

Loki did not care for the rich bountiful plates of the evening meals and he rarely stopped for lunch. Breakfast on the other hand, was a much-welcomed meal. He loved the variety of warms loafs, jams, fish, fruit, eggs and cold cut meats. His favourites tended to be the sweeter tart options, like the jams and fruits. One of his fondest memories was of him sneaking down to the kitchens when he was younger. Under the cover of a dark winter’s morning. The chill of cold floor on his bare feet still vivid in his mind, as his heart hammered hard in his chest at the possibility of being caught. His mother had just taught him a spell that helped him to conceal his footsteps, much to the rest of the palace’s annoyance; as It only helped aid in little Loki’s missions of mischief. Which their was a lot.

This objective was a completely self-indulgent one; to consume the vast amounts jams and honey they kept, due to him strictly only allowed to eat small amounts at mealtime. He simply wanted more - NAY! he craved more. He slipped past the few people who were there with laughable ease, ducking behind counter and crawling under shelves and made his way into the large pantry. Eyes gleaming and mouth drooling as he ogled at the vast expanses of varying colours and flavours stacked on the shelves. An expression of shear delight as if he had walked through the gates of Valhalla. 

He was of course eventually discovered but not until after completing his greedy mission. He was lying in a pile of empty jars, totally unable to move due to the amount he had gorged on. Remnants of the sticky treat smeared all over him. Eyes half lidded in an expression of complete smug, self-satisfied accomplishment. There was, understandably a quite harsh verbal scolding from His parents. His actual punishment was less harsh as he spent the next few days confined to his bedroom, sick with all the sugar he had eaten. Naturally his parents thought that was enough punishment in its self. Despite this, if he were able to ask his younger self, he would say it was undoubtedly worth it. So did his older self.

He briskly walked down the corridors. Making his way to the royal dining area. Unlike the other dining areas, his mother only allowed it to be used for family time. Only they were allowed there, as well as the servants. She believed it was a good way to switch off from royal duties and focus on being family. Loki found it nice, unless of course there were issues, which unfortunately they had been a few as of late. 

He came to the double doors. Bringing his hands to the door. Just as his hands touched the handle, A quick jolt, similar to electricity zipped through his body. He let out a yelp, recoiled his hand and whipped around; daggers instantly being equipped.

“FOR ODINS SAKE THOR-?” Nothing.

Thor was not there. No one was there. It was a just an empty corridor. Strange. Loki furrowed his eyebrows and let out a small huff. He closed his eyes, centring his focus and felt for possible magic. Like snakes, his magic spread out in invisible tendrils seeping into the air trying to detect something. He focused for a moment before realising there was nothing. Again, he furrowed his eyebrows. There had to be. He was just about to drop his suspicion and reach for the handle again when another pang shot through him. His head gave a quick twitch. This time He slowly turned. Still nothing. He scrunched his face before pushing the handle and walking into the Dining room. Must be the lack of sleep.

The room was big, dark, and luxurious. The thick gold curtains were usually drawn, to add to the privacy of the room. Candle holders lined the wall and a large oak table sat in the middle. There was a deep blue cloth running down the middle. His mother, Father and Brother were already in the room. 

The food was laid out in the middle of the table in vast quantities, arguably a far too bigger portions for a family of Four. Frigga would counter this by saying it would still not be enough with two growing boys at the table, but Himself and Thor would still be her little growing boys till they were grey-haired, wrinkled, and crippled. It wasn’t the strongest reasoning. 

Some servants were walking in and out of the doors on the other side of the room. Those doors led to a hover plate that was linked to the kitchens. They carried the last remaining plates of foods placing the neatly down before heading back to the doors down to the kitchens. The servants were chatting quietly to each other, some cheerily greeting the portion of the family that were sat at the table. Giving light conversation. They weren’t cold to their servants like some other royal families, mainly because the servants were around for so long or were part of families who pledged fidelity to the royal line for eons before, you were bound to get to become familiar. Of course, there were some lesser known servants, but they were never assigned to the royal wing, or catered to the family’s main needs. 

Odin and Frigga were in a conversation from what loki could see from the door. As he walked closer, he overheard his farther talking about minor troubles with certain factions from different realms, nothing serious he hoped. His mother was listening while she buttered bread. Thor was not feigning any interest; he was instead fully focused on gorging himself on the too large sandwich he had concocted. Norn Knows what was in it, if he had to guess however, everything on the table twice.

He pulled his chair out from under the table as he greeted his family “Good morning”

Frigga had just taken a bite as she swivelled her head around to the new arrival, eyes widening in surprise, corners of her mouth pulling up into a smile as she dropped her bread onto her plate and wiped the crumbs away from the her mouth “oh, Good morning love” she made sure not to open her mouth too wide as too not reveal her food. she was in private company, but she was still a queen of high dignity. 

“Good morning son” Odin gave a curt nod and slight smile to Loki as he sat down. His voice was filled with warmth despite what some would consider a stern greeting. 

Thor also greeted him but unlike their Mother, did not believe in small bites so it was ridiculously hard to understand what came from his mouth other than spit and bits of food. But Loki made another guess along the lines of ‘Hello’.

Loki sat, giving himself a few moments to make himself comfy before joining in with the rest of the family with digging into breakfast. Making a dive for the mini bread rolls. He grabbed about 4, each one about the size of his fist. Digging his thumbs into the top of the roll, he sunk in, a symphony of little crackles filled his ears as he broke the crust. Pulling the roll apart revealing the soft fully inside of the bread, Steam still oozing out the centre. It smelt divine. It always did, food was just as important as fighting to Asgardians. Loki knew which one he much preferred. He then scavenged the table again, picking up the apricot and blueberry jam. He spooned a healthy amount on each side of his roll. Placeng them both together then taking a large bite out of the roll. The tangy, sweet taste dancing around his tongue. The sharp notes waking him slightly. Loki let his posture slightly sink as he savoured the flavour. A faint hint of a smile sketched onto his face.

Frigga took a sip of freshly squeezed juice. Her and Odin and finished their small work conversation. She did not like dragging such things into the dining room, but he was her husband and it was good to hear him vent. Some things just could not be uttered in meeting rooms, not with so many eyes watching. There were more problems showing up in the 9 realms these past weeks, which had been causing more of his hairs to turn grey, he had been aging rather fast these past years. Of course, she knew he had a while longer, but it was still concerning to see. 

As well as these odd happenings there was also the added stress of the Winters night festival. They were not hosting but there was still a sense of wanting to get issues wrapped up before they went. They could enjoy the week better that way. It was 4 weeks away. They would be setting off on the Friday morning. She was excited, beyond excited. She had spent most her years in Vanaheim learning magic and she was excited to show her sons around. Especially loki. She knew her youngest did not fit in well here, that was obvious to see even to a blind man, but in Vanaheim he would be in his element. Speaking of which.

“So, boys. Are we excited for the festival? I assume georgette did your final fittings for your outfits.” 

She rested her pointed chin on here hand, leaning in intently to hear her boys. Both looked up from their plates, automatically exchanging quick glances between one another, neither one wanting to speak first. Eventually, In usual fashion Thor was the first to break.

“Yeah they’re fine. . . “Thor took a big swig of the orange juice before smearing away the remnants with the back of his hands, washing down the stodgy sandwich. “Not very practical though they don’t offer much protection. They look . . . soft” 

“They are not meant to offer protection dear they are meant to look nice. We are not expecting a siege to fall upon the party.” Frigga let a laugh slip her lips as she rolled her eyes in amusement. “Besides, I thought it would be nice to have outfits tailored that reflect the Vanir style. Rather Than our usual heavily armoured ones" she paused "And it will let you move better when it comes to dancing” 

Thor gave a slight nod, feigning interest, He didn’t care much for fashion as long as they covered him he didn’t care what he wore “My measurements changed again. According to georgette I’m not allowed to train again until after the festival because I keep getting bigger.” Thor let out a chuckle as he recounted the conversation “She made such’a fuss over it. It’s not if I can control how my body grows, certainly not planning on becoming any smaller. She kept saying I’ll rip the arms and the seam on my backside, like I did that time at the yules feast.”

“Aye, I remember that,” his farther letting a small smile of amusement grace his stoic face, A small crack in sturdy boulder. “it definitely reinvigorated the celebration after that dwarf accidently set the food table a light. I’m also glad to see the Training I put in place for you two is paying off.”

At that, Loki quickly shrunk into himself. His measurements had gone down. It took a rather strong spell of suggestion to be uttered into the seamstress’s ear to stop her discussing her worry with his parents. Loki put it down to his restless nights. He had only been eating enough to get him through the day, not the night. Maybe he should start bringing snacks to bed with him. He could not foresee himself getting to sleep anytime soon so it would be a small solution for the time being. It also didn't greatly help that Thor was excelling in his training and coming out with great results. And he was, well . . .

“Loki!”

Loki broke out of his thoughts looking up at his mother. 

“That was the third time I called you. Are you feeling hale?” She gave a slight laugh 

“Sorry I was thinking about something, what did you say mother” 

Frigga gave another quick eye roll “ I was asking about what you thought about your outfit”

“Oh, yes I heard you say tha-“

“AND how are you training sessions going” Loki looked towards he farther at the sudden cut in. He swallowed hard, while he tried to form a suitable answer. Truth be told he had not been taking to the lessons all that well, not to mention he was planning on skipping today. Not the best thing to tell your farther about. 

“well, I think the outfits are rather nice actually. I much prefer the thinner fabrics compared to the heavier ones.” Loki gave a pause, Training. How had training been. Not good, Not good at all in honesty. ” training is . . . good”

Odin cocked a silver threaded brow “, just good, I hoped for your teacher’s reputation and skill level he would be much better than just . . . good. I hope your mind changes after today’s lesson”

“He’s not going todays lesson.”

Loki snapped his head around to meet Thor. eyes narrowing as he looked at him. Giving the kind of look that would scream ‘why would you say that you twit!’ A look that Thor was used to at this point, so he let a closed lipped shit eating grin spread across his face. 

“Is that so” Odin’s tone was lower this time, looking to loki, expecting an answer. “And why’s that?”

“he says he’s not feeling well”

“I can answer for myself Thor!” Loki retorted, pointing a finger at Thor.

“Boys” Frigga gave a quick warning to the two. Both muttered sorry “Loki continue”

“Thors correct, though I hate to admit it. “lowering his tone for the last part, however still receiving a playful but slightly irked look from his older Brother. “I’m not feeling my best today, I feel it better to sit this day out. I do not want to risk making my state any worse. My apologies farther I was going to tell you” 

Loki held his breath while he watched has his farther take in a deep breath, exhaling out a heavy sigh as he answered. “that is fine, though it’s not me you should be telling its general Tyr. He’s the one teaching You”

“I will farther”

“loki” He looked back to his Mother a small amount of concern in her eyes “ if you aren’t feeling right I can send Eir up to go and check on You, It won’t be a problem”

“No that’s fine Mother. It’s not serious. I just need to get to sleep” She gave approving nod and smile. He returned a small smile back. The family taking a moment to pick the next options of their food. They then divulged into a few other short conversations, touching up on studies, hunting and other princely lessons, small chat. 

Loki looked up and down the table, taking bites of his jam bread as he did so. Meats? No. Fish? No. Cheese? Maybe. Honey! That is what he wanted, where was the honey. His eyes had almost looked over the entre table before spotting the clear jar next to his farther. He felt his mouth water up as he imagined the sweet sticky liquid entering his mouth. 

“Farther could you pass me the honey, please”

Odin looked over. Loki Held was holding out his hand. Slowly his farther reached for the pot and passed it over.

“Make sure you don’t fill yourself up on sweet confectionary” grumbling as he did so “You can’t expect to get stronger when all you eat is Sugar”

“Yes, I know I’m not a child I’ll-“

“though I’m not sure you should deserve such decadent treats after the mess you’ve caused this week”

Loki quickly grabbed the pot rolling his eyes and changing his focus back to his plate, giving a quick thank you. Of course, his farther still was not done with that situation. They had already talked on this subject multiple times. It was not even that big of a deal. He knew what he did was wrong AND he had apologised, reversed the damages, and cleaned out the stable for a week. 

“Don’t you think for even a minute that me or your Mother have forgotten. The Guards have certainly not forgotten. I cannot keep coming up with excuses of why I let you avoid punishment every time you retaliate.” Loki could feel Odin’s one-eyed gaze drill into the side of his head, It made him shift with mild discomfort. Why was he bringing this up again? This situation was sorted why could not he just move on.

“You can’t cause other people to have misfortune just because they aren’t giving you the attention you want. I cannot keep letting you off the hook just because you are the Prince and My Son. I Still-“

“ATTENTION” loki dropped his fist onto the table “Farther you do not honestly think I did this just because I want attention! I did it Because-“

“Because what? You disagreed with something they said or lack of what they said, and you thought it in your right to teach them a lesson. A lesson in which you had no right of teaching. Taking a insignificant situation and blowing it out of proportion, making you look like the wrong doer” Frigga had stopped what she had been doing, to look at her husband. Thor had also stopped, staring rather wide eyed and awkwardly with his mouth still full. 

Frigga looked over to her youngest who was currently glaring at his farther. Her eyes were sympathetic. To her, loki looked young and innocent. He was her baby after all. But she would be a fool to see loki as completely innocent. He had a lot to learn, which she hoped would be learnt soon otherwise she could foresee a troubling future. One which she does not want him to go through. Gently she placed her hand on the table. “Loki”

Loki turned his head to face his mother,

“Loki, what your farther says is true, you can’t keep causing chaos and upset. we can’t keep you from punishments any longer. People are starting to become . . . “tilting her head slightly, she looking to the side searching for the right answer” aggravated. If anyone else were to pull any of what you do, there would be harsh consequences” Frigga slightly leaned into the middle, to get closer to her son as she looked into her sons eyes, searching for some kind of recognition. She did not want her son to be punished but she knew his schemes would need to be dealt with. They could not keep going unchecked.

“There were consequences.” Loki mumbled 

“Loki you Know full well that if it were someone else, they would not be let off that easy. You are not a child anymore; we cannot keep protecting you and blaming your actions on childish urges”.

“There not childish urges”

Odin leaned back in his chair leaning into the corner of one side, propping his elbow up on the arm of the chair, a clear look of exasperating on his face. “Son you transformed the entirety of one of the Einherjar squadrons horses into toads. just because one of them called you a name.” He brought a leathery worn hand to his face as he rubbed his eyes and forehead, as if trying to brush away the memory. 

Loki bit his lip, yes, he had been petty, but it was for a reason. He was sick and tired of people dismissing and ignoring him. He didn’t want to argue but “its not like it’s the first time they bothered me Farther. I don’t practically earn a lot of respect from the people and I don’t expect myself to be pushed around and simple take it” His eyes were on the table, he didn’t want to look at his farther. Part of him hoped that in doing so the conversation would be dropped.

“I raised you and Thor to be Honourable kings. Not vengeful petty ones.” Odin’s voice was flat and monotone. “You think you’ll earn respect by pulling stupid practical jokes and _tricks_ on people.”

Quite suddenly Loki did not feel that hungry anymore, nor did he want to be here anymore. He grabbed the two rolls he still had not eaten shoved them into his pocket. Stood up. Dismissed himself and left.

“Hey Lo-!” 

“Leave him Thor” His father’s Voice was the last thing he heard when he left the room.

\-------------------------------------------

Thor had gone. It was now just Odin and Frigga. They had waited in silence for a few moments while the servants quickly took everything away. It was Frigga who broke it.

“So, what are we planning on doing?” both had a serious face on them.

“Nothing?”

Frigga raised a neatly Plucked eyebrow in disbelief.

“Nothing this time, but if he is to do anything else then we will have to organise some kind of punishment.” 

She nodded gently, tiny glimpses of upset in her eyes. “Both you and I Know it is not a matter of if he’s going to do something again. It is a matter of when.”

“Frigga, my queen” There were few times Odins feature truly soften. All those times had been around his wife. “You know I’ve put off acting on lokis mischief for a long time. But I feel if we do not treat these acts seriously as people would wish. someone else. Someone who wants far worse consequences will. And I can’t have that happening to him.”

Delicate hands reached out for calloused ones. Frigga soothingly rubbed her fingers over the back of her husband’s hands. “I know dear, I will try to talk to him tonight. After he’s Blown off some steam. He unfortunately takes after you when it comes to anger.” She said the last part with slight amusement in her voice. She often Found amusement in Odin’s little tantrums, the ones where he would vent to her in the late hours of the night. Or when he would complain about his Brutish Brothers being all Brawn and no brain. Loki was far more like Odin than Thor was, despite what some people would assume. 

“I know. That’s what I’m worried about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew! that was a lot of talking. I'm not the best at writing dialogue, so god knows why I decided to create a scene that would require so much. 
> 
> Anyway I hope you can see where Odin and Frigga are coming from. I also hope I didn't make loki seem too Bratty. I'm trying to write him a little more immature than when we see him in the movie so I hope it comes across alright. 
> 
> I hope you're all well btw. again I'm sorry about being so late and I'll see you next chapter. :)
> 
> I do art btw, which in my opinion is stronger than my writer, i'm also a lot more active on my twitter @dashing_frost (fitting name I know) you can go check it out if you want.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked it.  
> Like I said,not much going on in terms of story in this chapter or the next. I just want you to catch up to the characters a bit so this story doesn't end up being 100 chapters.  
> Trust me it could still happen. My favourite books are lord of the rings, I'm not afraid to get wordy and descriptive.  
> Next chapter should be up in a few days, hope to see you there.


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